Carpathian 18 - Dark Possesion

brain short-circuiting, so really, as stupid as the remark might have been, it wasn't half-bad under the circumstances.
    He smiled, a slow, sensual smile that sizzled and dazzled and tightened the spirals in her already curly hair.
    Maybe he was the Carpathian secret weapon against women, because it was working on her. The man was a menace. Truly. She had to get ahold of herself. She snapped her fingers. "Consider yourself saved and let's get out of here." Because wanting to jump him was most likely the effect of the rain forest, all sultry and sweaty. She'd read a lot of Tarzan books in her youth. She was just programmed for sex in the jungle, and the sooner she got out of there, the faster she'd return to normal.
    He crooked his finger at her. "Come here."
    Her mouth went dry. "I'm perfectly fine right here, thank you."
    With her favorite boots sinking into the muck. She couldn't move if she'd wanted to. Her heart pounded and fear crept in, not of him, of herself. For herself.
    His gaze slid over her, and there was dark possession glittering in the black depths. Not love. Possession.
    Ownership. Raw sensuality. Her body responded, but her brain screamed a warning. She wasn't dealing with a human male who lived under the rules of her society. She was alone with a Carpathian who believed he had every right to her. Who knew he could control her mind and persuade her to do his bidding. This man would demand total submission and surrender from his partner. And she was a no-submission, no-surrender kind of woman. How the hell had she gotten herself into such trouble?
    "I said come here to me." His tone didn't rise, or even harden; rather he pitched the command lower so that his voice felt like the velvet rasp of a tongue sliding over her skin. His black eyes compelled her obedience.
    She stepped closer before she could stop herself, and strong arms whipped around her, crushing her body against his. She fit like a glove. He was hard and muscular, and she was all soft curves and aware of every one of them. He whispered something in his own language, something soft and utterly sensual. Te avio päläfertülam . He repeated the words as his tongue swirled against the pulse beating so frantically in her neck.
    "You are my lifemate."
    It couldn't be true because she knew one had to be psychic, but right then, in that precise moment, she wanted it to be true. She wanted the feeling of belonging to this man. She had never had such a physical reaction to another being in her life. Entolam kuulua, avio päläfertülam . His lips whispered over her pulse, teeth nipping gently as his tongue stroked another caress. She thought her body might go up in flames. "I claim you as my lifemate."
    She lifted her head, opened her mouth to protest, but his mouth fastened on hers, taking her breath, exchanging it with his. Her legs turned to rubber, and to anchor herself she wound one leg around his thighs while her tongue tangled with his in a long, slow dance of pure erotic pleasure. The feeling burst through her so that her blood pounded and her heart thundered in her ears. She almost missed the soft words brushing along the walls of her mind and embedding there.
    Ted kuuluak, kacad, kojed. Elidamet andam. Pesamet andam. Uskolfertülamet andam. Sivamet andam.
    Sielamet andam. Ainamet andam. Sivamet kuuluak kaik etta a ted . "I belong to you. I offer my life for you. I give you my protection. I give you my allegiance. I give you my heart. I give you my soul. I give you my body. I take into my keeping the same that is yours."

    The kiss deepened, and she was falling, burning, wrapping herself inside Manolito De La Cruz. She felt her heart and soul reaching for his. Merging. Her breasts ached and grew heavy. She felt the damp eagerness in her deepest feminine core, and her mind blurred even more with the hot passion rising.
    Some small, sane part tried to save her, some little untouched portion of her brain raising a red flag, but his mouth was unlike anything she'd ever experienced and she wanted more, his taste addicting. His hand slipped inside her jacket, pushed up the edge of her shirt and closed over her breast so that she gasped and drew his head down to her, wanting him. Wanting . No, needing .
    His lips wandered down her throat as one hand settled into her hair, bunching the thick braid in his fist, anchoring her to him while he explored the satiny soft skin. He found the swell of her breast, the mark he had placed there branding her